


home

by magnetocent



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Denial, Friends to Lovers, M/M, dumb men being dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 14:21:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14286801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnetocent/pseuds/magnetocent
Summary: Everything is normal between Hal and Barry. They horse around and point out attractive people to each other. Go to League meetings and fight their adversaries and go do their day jobs. But now they kiss in between, and touch more often than what’s considered normal between guys who are ‘just good pals’.And at the end of the day, they climb into bed together and end up wrapped up in each other. And it’s all completely normal.





	home

**Author's Note:**

> this is a very, very old wip (from like...two years ago???) that i recently remembered, so some of it is a little rough and might have some ooc moments, but i edited it and added an ending and stuff. but i figured i'd post it because i still sorta like the story. 
> 
> also the beginning has a little bit of...assumed homophobia?? i guess you could call it...jsyk.

The party was Batman's idea – or rather, a team-building exercise was Batman's idea, the party is just what came of it. 

The booze was Oliver's idea, and the shots were, surprisingly, Diana's. After her, Clark and Barry came to an unending tie in their drinking game, they introduced alien liquor, at the behest of Hal. The idea to play Truth or Dare? That's up in the air. Someone suggested it, though, and they were all drunk enough to agree that it was the best idea  _ever_.

And like anything else you do while drunk, there was no rhyme or reason to who asked who questions or who dared who. Only Dinah answering a loud voice asking ‘Have you ever been in a thing with one of the other Birds of Prey?’, or Clark trying to back out of ‘Dude! I dare you to throw me across the room!’, and a slew of equally deeply private or ridiculous questions and commands.

They’re aimed mostly at a few choice people. The hard-traveling heroes at number one, and the big three coming in second. Some are lobbed at Ralph, and some at Ray, one is saved for J’onn. No one dares ask Arthur or the Hawks any truths – aside from Hal, who Barry had to reign in before he could get it out. Barry himself is only called upon to take part when the game starts slowing down. When it turns into just Dare, and those become less involved with their powers and more akin to the ones you would do at a middle school party. 

Dinah extends her arm to point at him, and all eyes turn to look when she does. He’s like a deer caught in the headlights, frozen with eyes wide, waiting for something horrible like eating some wretched concoction Oliver can whip up.

“Kiss Hal!” she cries, too loud, “Kiss him!”

And he hears hoots and cheers of encouragement, except for from the two bodies to his right. Hal chuckles, while Oliver waves his hand out and scoffs.

“He won’t do it,” Oliver says over the voices, continuing in a poor drawl, “This good ol’, straight-laced Missouri boy? Probably thinks it’ll make him  _gay_.”

Barry sits up at the accusation, ready to tell Oliver what’s what. That he's not some ignorant good ol' boy. That's he's a scientist thank you very much, and he knows how sexuality works. To blurt out that maybe he's already attracted to men so kissing an attractive guy wouldn't bother him at all. But then Hal’s arm moves to rest completely on his shoulders and tightens, and he's brought back to himself. To the fact that he's so not ready to admit  _that_ , and especially not here. Geez, what’s in this alien booze?

“Relax, buddy,” Hal says, jostling him drunkenly before he turns to Oliver, “Bro, shut the fuck up. You know Barry doesn’t give a shit about that.”

Oliver scoffs in reply, “Whatever you say. Goodie-two-shoes still won’t do it.”

“He doesn’t have to,” Clark butts in, always the calm mediator, even after a handful of drinks, “You don’t have to Barry.”

“Yes, it is only for fun,” Diana's lightly accented voice adds in from behind them. Their words are meant to be nice, but they only serve to annoy Barry more instead—though a part of him thinks that annoyance is being leavened by the alcohol. 

They think he can’t go through with a small dare? The thought of sharing a kiss with his best friend is going to make him uncomfortable and shy away? No way. He can have fun like everyone else. And this is Hal they’re talking about, a kiss isn’t more of a big deal than a hug. So he does it. Grabs Hal by the back of the head and lays one on him. He hears a small gasp from Hal before the cheering and catcalls are able to muffle it.

It’s just a small kiss, a press of lips against lips that doesn’t last more than two seconds. But it’s enough to make a warm feeling spread through him from his head to his toes, just like when they hug. Just like he thought it would. When he pulls back, Hal is staring at him. His eyes are wide and his jaw slack. But the look is replaced by something a little warmer after a brief moment. And Barry returns it, eyes crinkling at the corners when he smiles back. That is until Oliver interrupts them.

“Ho-lee shit,” he says, looking somewhat impressed, “Fucker did it.”

Barry lets a smirk stretch his lips as he sits back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest in triumph. And Hal just laughs beside him before he returns his arm to its previous position over Barry’s shoulders.

“ _Yeah_  he did!” he grins, then jostles Barry with his arm again, “How did it feel Barry?”

“Like I’m gonna turn gay!” Barry jokes back, face falling into a brief look of horror before he smiles. Hal’s eyebrow raises as he grins back.

“Told you I was that good.”

Barry shakes his head in mock disbelief, “I should have never doubted you.”

That gets a smirk out of Hal, and he leans closer into Barry’s space.

“Wanna go again?”

A small thrill shoots through Barry’s chest, he tamps it down and nods, “Heck yeah!”

Then he’s being grabbed and pulled over. Dipped down so that the only way he won’t fall on the floor is by grabbing at Hal’s shoulders while said man leans over him. Hal doesn’t kiss him, however, just sticks his head into Barry’s neck and laughs into his ear.

“Heck yeah?” he mumbles. Barry can feel his grin against his cheek.

“Shut up.” He replies. He’s let go immediately and would have tumbled to the floor if he didn’t speed himself upright again. And everyone got a good laugh from their antics, hollering and laughing again. Even  _Bruce_ did if Barry’s reading that smirk right. But then their attention moves on to the next participant in their game, and Barry and Hal’s kiss gets forgotten in the mess of the following dares. 

People get up and move around the rest of the night. To get drinks, or to jump in on dares and conversation, but Barry stays right where he is, comforted by the warm arm around his shoulders. Hal doesn’t seem to mind at all either, returning to sit beside him every time he gets up.

Barry thinks about the kiss every once in a while that night. How sweet it was, and how it made him feel the same way a hug would. He'll catch Hal's eyes and they'll talk, and he'll think about doing it again. He wonders if Hal wants to do it again, too. 

The next day he makes himself forget those thoughts. Pretends like the whole thing never happened for as long as possible.

The next time they kiss is months after the first. Hal had just returned to Earth after a five-week mission. He was tired and missing his planet, his city. But most of all he missed his best friend.

When Barry opens the door, Hal immediately encircles him in an almost bone-crushing hug. It’s returned, just as fiercely, and he can feel Barry’s face buried in his neck. They don’t part for a long time, but when they do Hal leans in again and places a small kiss on the corner of Barry’s mouth. He doesn’t know why he does it, he just feels like it was the right thing to do after being gone so long. And while he knows Barry didn’t have a problem with the first kiss, that one caused by a dare. This is a spur of the moment thing. He doesn’t know how Barry’s going to react. He’s nervous to find out. However, the feeling drains out of him when he pulls back and Barry is smiling up at him, eyebrows furrowed in question.

“I missed you.” Hal offers as an explanation.

Barry nods, satisfied with the answer, “I missed you, too.”

And that’s that. Barry then steps aside and lets Hal into the entrance. He jokes about needing to invest in a pull-out couch if he’s going to be staying so often. The smell of something cooking wafts through the apartment. Barry says it's just a pasta bake he threw together. Hal asks if he has any beer and puts on the TV, and everything is normal between them.

When Hal leaves a few days later, he’s met with a parting kiss. It's followed by a "Try not to get in any trouble" and pat on his shoulder. He laughs and promises he won’t, even though they both know he always does.

Then a few weeks later, when Barry is distraught after a particularly hard case, he runs to Coast City. And when Hal asks him what's wrong he just offers a brief explanation -- he just wasn't fast enough. And Hal hugs him and kisses him on the cheek. Murmurs reassuring words until Barry says he's OK. Then they part, and Hal tells him about some girl he pulled the night before to keep his mind off of everything, and Barry chastises him when he gets vulgar. 

It becomes a regular occurrence after a while.

They’ll kiss in greeting and farewell, after pep talks and for comfort. Placed on lips, or cheeks, or hands. All small fleeting things that never last more than a couple seconds. But they mean just as much as a hug between best friends or a ‘got your back’ on the battlefield.

But it’s never discussed. It’s an unspoken thing, with unspoken rules like: ‘not in front of others’, and ‘not in uniform’. In those times they sit together like normal, arms over shoulders or feet touching. Fingers will clasp around an arm for a moment or eyes will lock across the room. It all means just as much, but with less stigma, and they both feel it’s better that way.

One Thursday night, after a patrol of Central, they sit beside each other on Barry’s couch. They're eating some Chinese food he sped off to get earlier. Some terrible, late-night comedy is on the TV that they’re half watching. At some point, Barry pulls his leg up onto the couch and his knee knocks into Hal’s thigh. Their eyes meet, warm and friendly, and Hal leans over and kisses him. Or Barry leans over and kisses Hal. If you ask, neither of them can remember who initiated, only that it was different that time.

Maybe it was the increased duration of the kiss or the brush of noses. Maybe it was how Hal’s tongue darted out just enough to get a taste of the chow mien on Barry’s lip. Or how Barry sucked on Hal’s for just a split second. Maybe it was the look in each other’s eyes when they parted, half-lidded and heated.

Whatever the reason, things changed.

They finish their meal in silence. After, Hal sits still on the couch while Barry speed-cleans the coffee table of empty containers. He comes to a stop in front of his friend, scratching the back of his head and tapping his finger against his hip.

“We should probably get to bed.” He suggests. Hal just nods at him and moves to get the bedclothes from the nearby closet.

“You can—“ Barry, stopping Hal in his tracks, “You don’t have to…”

He doesn’t finish, but his offer is clear in the way he bites his lip and is careful to avoid Hal’s eyes. Hal only stands in his spot. He drags his eyes to the bedroom door and rubs a hand across his stomach before dropping it to his side.

“Yeah,” is all he says and he can see Barry’s body relax out of the corner of his eye. They crawl into bed together, but they don’t kiss again. They fall asleep apart, but at one-point Hal wakes up and finds he’s curled into Barry’s chest. The next morning Barry wakes up alone. He panics for a second before he finds a note taped to his bedside lamp.

_Got a call from the Guardians. Be home soon._

_H_

_Home_ , Barry thinks, then checks the clock and realizes he’s late for work.

Hal isn’t back for five days. Barry still has the note taped to his lamp and every morning he spends five minutes staring at it and wondering. 

When Hal does return, it’s at three in the morning. He comes straight to Barry’s bedroom and even dims his light so he won’t disturb his sleep. He powers down and strips of everything except his boxers before climbing in the bed. Barry makes a small noise, and Hal kisses his cheek and whispers a quiet “It’s just me” against it. He glances up after and sees the note. But he doesn’t do anything about it, just wraps an arm around his friend’s waist and goes to sleep.

They don’t talk about that either, though Barry knows they really should. 

Instead, life goes on as normal between them. They still horse around and point out attractive people to each other. Still, go to League meetings and fight their adversaries and go do their day jobs. But now they kiss in between, and touch more often than what’s considered normal between guys who are ‘just good pals’.

And at the end of the day, they climb into bed together and end up wrapped up in each other. And it’s all completely normal.

Then it happens.

It’s early one Saturday morning. The overcast skies and rain make the bed seem cozier than normal. They’re both curled up and half awake. Hal’s chest is pressed against Barry’s back, and they’re being lulled in and out by the soft patter of raindrops on the window.

Barry keeps shifting around. Hal’s whispers a soft “stop  _moving_ ” against his neck. It causes goosebumps to raise on his skin and a small grin to stretch across his lips. He shifts again, this time pressing himself backward, more into Hal’s body and wiggling around. He’s playing, trying to irritate his bedmate, and it works. Hal rolls him over and pins him down by his arms, face close. He grins at Hal’s glare.

But he can feel Hal’s breath against his face and the brush of skin against skin and his smile falters. The glare wanes as well, the crease on forehead smoothing out and eyes going half-lidded and mouth parting. The hands pinning Barry down relax, but don’t move away. Barry can feel himself arch up into Hal’s body slightly, but can’t seem to do anything to stop himself. Then a leg slides over his own, bringing Hal to rest fully on him, so their chests and stomachs and hips press together.

Hal buries his head back into Barry’s neck and breathes deeply. He shifts, sliding skin against skin in an attempt to get closer. Barry lifts his arms, moves them to wrap around Hal’s shoulders. And Hal lets his hands slide down over corded muscle and the smooth planes of Barry’s sides until they come to rest on hips.

Gravity pushes Hal’s shoulders more into Barry’s, trapping him. It’s a surprisingly nice feeling. He brings his knees to a bend, pushing Hal up more, lining up their already hard cocks. He gasps, and Hal whines into his ear. There’s more pressure, Hal bucking his hips into Barry’s involuntarily. Barry moans and grips his hips harder, and he feels Hal’s nose nuzzle deeper into his neck. He tightens his arms around shoulders and breathes out heavily over Hal’s ear. And Hal responds by doing it again, this time pulling Barry up to meet him halfway. There’s a choked off gasp, and he does it again. And again. Faster each time until they’re rocking into each other breathing hard and biting skin, and  _kissing_  and  _kissing_  and  _licking_  into each other’s mouths.

And then there’s a hand in someone’s pants and some more pushing them down altogether. They kiss more and somehow Barry ends up on top, still between Hal’s legs but now he’s  _touching_  him, both of them. Jerking both their cocks tight in his fist, at a speed that’s just on the precipice of being  _inhuman_.

Then he’s coming, and Hal follows quickly. And he’s being pushed away and he goes easily. Rushes to the bathroom and slams the door shut. Another door slams shut in the apartment a few moments later. Hal’s gone and they’re both full of regret.

Hal doesn’t come back that night. Or after a week. He’s too freaked out and trying to pretend what happened  _never happened_. It’s easier when Barry’s not around. It would be a lot easier if he could stop thinking about it. About Barry and the noises he made, the way his body felt against him. The curve of his lip when he smiles or the soft blue of his eyes.

He gets called away by the Guardians for a mission and the absolute disaster that month ends up being, helps him forget for a while. But then he’s back on Earth. He takes several hours and loiters in a Starbucks, trying to decide whether or not he should go back to Barry or hide away at Oliver’s place. He knows the smart thing to do would be talking things out. Making sure he didn’t just ruin years of friendship because he couldn’t keep it in his pants.

He never claimed to be a smart man, though. 

However, on his way to Star City, he gets an urgent call on his League comm from Clark to get over to Metropolis. Luthor and his band of supervillain _jerk-offs_  are trying to take over  _whatever_  again and Hal’s pretty sure the universe  _hates_  him because he’s trying to  _avoid_  his best friend right now,  ** _thank you_**.

He swears under his breath and changes course. Zooms off in a flash of green, and hopes silently in the back of his mind that Barry doesn’t hate him for what he did.

Barry prides himself on being able to put his personal life aside when he’s in the suit. Focus on the situation at hand and fixing it in the blink of an eye. But sometimes there are things he can’t just slide away. This is one of those times.

He had been assigned to take out Grodd while the rest of the League fights their own rogues, but he’s distracted. His nose is running blood and he’s pretty sure he has fractures throughout his body. He can see a big green fist fly through the air in the distance and gets pinned to the ground under a huge, hairy paw in the next second. 

“Flash!” he hears Superman shout in his ear before the comm is ripped off, taking part of his cowl with it. He feels a sharp pain bloom across his cheek. But he can’t think about it for too long, because soon his chest is being crushed under the heavy weight of the primate above him. He can’t hold a breath long enough to be able to concentrate on vibrating himself out of the grip. His vision is blacking out at the corners. He grasps at the hair on the arm in front of him and struggles as it pushes down harder—

The last thing he remembers is a flash of light, and the weight of Grodd being lifted off of him. The next waking instant he’s trying to breathe in as much air as he can as he struggles to get up. He surges forward, vision clearing and focusing as his breath becomes less ragged. The there’s hands on him, pushing him back down onto something soft and murmuring something to him. He blinks and notices the green hue dancing before his eyes. 

“Hal,” he rasps out, “Grodd…what about—“

A hand comes up to rest gently on his forehead.

“Relax,” Hal replies, “It’s over.”

Barry’s eyebrows furrow, and he looks around to realize he’s not lying on the pavement anymore but is in one of the medbay beds. His costume has been cut away from his torso and is replaced with wrappings. When he squints up at the lights, he feels the crumpled wrinkling of medical tape over his nose. Hal’s mask is gone, replaced with a haggard, tired gaze. He’s leaning over him, hand still placed against his head. It grazes down to cup at Barry’s cheek, and he turns into it.

“What happened?”

Hal swallows throat clicking, “Um. Grodd scratched up your face. Broke your nose and a couple of ribs. Punctured lung. Internal bleeding.”

He looks away, hand dropping to rest on the pillow next to Barry’s head, “I got him off you, then got you here. The others finished the job—you were in bad shape.”

Barry turns to the clock on the opposite wall, “How long has it been?”

“Eighteen hours. They induced a coma to let you heal.” Hal answers, “You’re almost there. You should be out of here by the end of the day.”

Then he gives Barry a strained smile, and his shoulder a friendly pat with the same hand that was previously caressing over his cheek. There’s something in the way he’s hunched over the bed, and the dark bags under his eyes that tells Barry he wasn’t the only one occupying medbay while he was out.

“Have you been here the entire time?” he asks.

Hal hesitates before he nods, “They kept me out while they were trying to stop the bleeding, but other than that…yeah.”

Something changes in that moment, something big. Not that they haven’t done this type of thing before—before now and before this  _thing_  they have. It’s exactly that, the fact that both of them have lost countless hours of sleep, spent days and days waiting while the other is injured, or in a coma. Or nursed the other while they rode out those injuries. It occurs to Barry that this  _thing_  was a long time coming. That it wasn’t spur-of-the-moment, that those feelings weren’t just brought about by innocent kisses. They were always there.

So, he reaches out, grasps Hal by the back of the neck and pulls him down. Their lips meet, and Hal kisses him frantically, grabbing at his neck and jaw, mouthing at his lip and cheek. Barry lets it happen, lets himself be peppered and whispered to, grabs at hair and the fabric of Hal's suit even though he knows about the cameras in the corners, and that someone is probably watching them from the monitor room right now. Everyone in the league will know by the end of the week, but he doesn’t care. He just needs Hal to know he’s okay, that he’s here and he loves him. 

He loves him so much.

**Author's Note:**

> i never wanted to be that person who used an excerpt from the story as the summary but oops here i am doing it anyway.


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